In the clear outer light, Rowland’s first impression of her was that she was more beautiful than ever. And yet in three months she could hardly have changed; the change was in Rowland’s own vision of her, which that last interview, on the eve of her marriage, had made unprecedentedly tender.
“How came you here?” she asked. “Are you staying in this place?”
“I am staying at Engelthal, some ten miles away; I walked over.”
“Are you alone?”
“I am with Mr. Hudson.”
“Is he here with you?”
“He went half an hour ago to climb a rock for a view.”
“And his mother and that young girl, where are they?”
“They also are at Engelthal.”
“What do you do there?”